


Arabian Days

by MandMandM



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arabian, Blossoming Romance, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 03:14:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3513143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MandMandM/pseuds/MandMandM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tobio just wanted to spend the hot day at home. Of course, that couldn't happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arabian Days

**Author's Note:**

> I blame my boring prof, Aladdin, the Pussycat Dolls, and the harem pants I wore for school today for "inspiring" this thing. I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW I NEEDED AN ARABIAN KAGEHINA IN MY LIFE HELP
> 
> Sort of like a one shot or a dribble (longer drabble? Whatevs). I have 2 more KageHina plot bunnies that'll probably end up like this but I wanna post them all separately.

Tobio’s mother decided one sunny Saturday to go to the market, pulling unwilling Tobio along. If he had a choice, which wasn’t possible if his mother was involved, he really didn’t want to leave the house. It was too hot to go anywhere. He had voiced this out, but all his mother said was, “What are you talking about, Tobio? It’s always hot!” 

His mother was right, though. It was always hot—during the day, at least. Once night fell, it would be so cold that when he was little, Tobio had often believed that their house had been magically transported up north. He had been silly, but Tobio hadn’t cared. Still didn’t. He hadn’t known he was living by the deserts anyway. 

“Tobio!” He heard his mother holler from the kitchen downstairs, snapping him out of his reverie. “What’s taking you so long?”

“Coming!” he shouted. He pulled on his cloak, grimacing at the heavy, uncomfortable feeling of wearing more than one layer of clothing in this weather. It was summer time, too, and Tobio wondered why his mother had chosen today of all days to shop for food.

The fez lay innocently at his bed, as if mocking him, and he lost against the urge to glare at it. What he hated more than putting on more layers of clothes was wearing the fez, simply because it felt hotter. Tobio knew his mother wouldn’t let him out of the house without it, so he picked it up and placed it on his head unceremoniously. He didn’t even glance at the mirror to check himself. He was just done with it. The sooner he left the house, the faster he could go back, he thought.

When he met his mother, who was by the front door already, she gave one look at him and clucked her tongue. “Tobio, when will you ever wear it the right way?” She reached up and adjusted the monstrosity, and he looked away, avoiding his mother’s eyes. He glanced back to her, though, when he was handed something big. A basket. “Carry this for me. Come on.” She opened the door and got out, Tobio following silently.

As Tobio walked, he could feel beads of sweat easily gathering along his skin and trickling on his back. The sun wasn’t even that bright, but the air was much more hot and humid than the last time he got out, which was weeks ago. It was a bit windy, though, but that left nothing to be desired since Tobio barely kept his eyes opened. The sand getting in his eyes never seemed to run out.

He trailed behind his mother like the obedient son he was raised into being. His mother constantly asked his opinion about the choice of vegetables, and Tobio would just tell her to choose whatever they didn’t have in their small garden. All he wanted was to get out of this heat and go home, and he hoped those sentiments were etched on his face. No sooner, though, had his mother picked up on his mood and merely gave him a glare that could rival his own. Only now did he realize that she was his mother for a reason.

His hell, both in the literal and figurative sense, lasted for a few more minutes, before his mother turned to him and said, “All right, you can go back home. I’ll drop by the seamstress’s shop, so you can go ahead.” The relief he was feeling was probably so great it showed in his face, if his mother’s eye roll was any indication.

Tobio was almost skipping on the way home—he would if the basket wasn’t so damn heavy and the weather was so much better—but he remembered the fifty-minute walk he’d endured with his mother and suddenly, his good mood vanished. Still, even if he walked the fastest he could, it would still take him at least thirty minutes to reach home. He glanced at his left to the slums, the most lawless area in town, and had an idea. If he went into the slums, it would only take him ten minutes of walking. He’d heard of this shortcut from his friends, but never tried it before, obviously because it was too dangerous.

He was turning left when he stopped himself. Was it worth the risk? He’d never been in the slums, and his mother always told him never to set foot in there. And at night, he had often heard distant yells and running footsteps from this direction, which were probably the street fights.

Before he could think even more, a strong, flowery scent reached him and he turned around to see two women— _no, dancers_ , Tobio corrected—sauntering towards him. One of them smiled and batted an eyelash at him.

“My, you’re a fine man. Would you like us to dance for you?” she purred.

Tobio, who wasn’t stupid and knew these dancers were trouble, kept his cool even though his heart was beating fast. “No, thank you.”

The dancers didn’t look fazed by his answer and instead, moved closer to him, much to his panic. “Come on, let us dance for you. We’ll make it free for the first.” She winked.

“N—” Tobio stopped breathing because the dancers were so close, he was getting dizzy from their perfume, and felt paralyzed with fear. He cursed himself because he didn’t know what to do, and the dancers were about to touch his face when he turned around and ran.

He didn’t know where he was going. He just ran on shaky legs until he met a dead-end in an alley. It was late when he realized he had entered the slums and was now apparently lost. _This is just perfect_ , he thought sarcastically. The only positive thing Tobio could get out from this was the shade he was enjoying from the houses.

“Hey!” a voice shouted, and Tobio’s heart almost jumped out of his chest as his head whipped around to find the owner of the voice. Nothing was on the alley or at the dead-end. What was going on?

“Up here!” the voice said. Tobio looked up, eyes squinting a little before widening at the figure of a boy standing on the roofs. But what shocked him more was when the boy jumped and grabbed onto some of the dangling clothes before gracefully jumping down in front of him without a single scratch. A mess of orange hair, which was a little unusual, greeted him before the boy straightened up and presented him with the biggest, brightest smile Tobio had ever seen on such an unruly boy.

“You’re not from here, aren’tcha?” The boy grinned.

The question didn’t register in his mind because he was marveling his first time seeing a misfit. The boy was normal looking, though, just greasy everywhere. His clothes, or lack thereof, made Tobio’s eyes widen a bit because how could this boy run around town in an open vest and pants—and _barefooted_!—while Tobio could not? He knew why he couldn’t, but it was just unfair.

The boy waved his hands in front of Tobio. “Hello? Anyone there?”

He finally blinked out of his stupor. “Uh, um, no.” His answer sounded like a question.

The boy hummed and observed him carefully, keeping his arms on his back and rocking on the balls of his feet. The posture gave Tobio a full view of the boy’s chest which was a little bony; he could see the ribs protruding as he moved, and grimaced. The movement stopped, and folded arms hid the bony chest from sight.

“Whatcha lookin’ at me like that for?” the boy said, glaring at Tobio.

He wanted to put his hands up, to reassure the boy that he didn’t mean anything bad or any harm—Huh? Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around?—but the forgotten heavy basket prevented him and instead said, “Nothing.”

“That doesn’t look like nothing,” the boy snapped, and his eyes fell on the basket. “It really doesn’t,” he continued softly, almost to himself, and Tobio’s brows rose when a stomach growled. The boy was looking at him again. “Hey, can you give me some food?”

Of course, Tobio should have said no. His mother would kill him definitely, if he gave their food to a street boy. But he found himself saying, “I don’t give food to strangers. I don’t even know your name.”

Narrowed eyes bored at him. “That sounds like somethin’ a king would say. Are you a king?”

Tobio glared. “What? No! Just so you know, I’m not the one begging for food here.”

The boy slapped a hand to his mouth. “Oh, right, right. I’m a street rat. Stupid, Shouyou, what are you thinking?” He slapped both hands to his face with a groan.

“Your name is Shouyou?”

Again, the boy—Shouyou—slapped a hand to his mouth. “No. I-I’m not!” he lied weakly.

“Liar.” Tobio snickered.

“Gyaa! You have a creepy face when you smile,” Shouyou said with wide eyes.

“I don’t!”

“You do! And I still don’t know yours, stupid!”

“Me? Stupid? Only an idiot let their names slip like you did. Dumbass!”

“You called me dumbass!”

“You called me stupid!”

“Because I don’t know your name, so I’m calling you Stupid!” Shouyou screamed, but then he grimaced and placed a hand on his stomach.

Tobio exhaled sharply and backed away. He didn’t know how and why he ended up arguing with this dirty boy here. Come to think of it, he _was_ fighting a _boy_. He’d lost his senses, really. “How old are you anyway?”

“I’m fifteen.” Shouyou stuck his tongue out as if that would make his age more believable.

_Same as me?_ “Fifteen? Seriously?”

“Shut up! I’m still growing! And I don’t have anything to eat, that’s why I’m like this. Uwah, I’m so hungry.” Suddenly, Shouyou plopped down on the ground and rested his back against the wall with a pitiful expression.

Seeing this made Tobio sigh and reach for an apple and a banana from the basket. “Here.” He tossed them to Shouyou, who caught the apple but not the banana. “Hey, don’t waste it,” he scolded.

“Then don’t toss food!” Shouyou said bitingly. Still, Shouyou’s face brightened when he stared at the fruits in his hands. “Thanks, Stupid!” he said around a bite of apple.

“Dumbass!” Tobio shouted back, then hesitated but finally came to a decision. “And it’s Tobio.”

“Hm? Tobio?” Shouyou repeated before taking a huge bite of banana. Then he smiled that big, bright smile again, and Tobio looked on, amused but disgusted, at the mess around his mouth from eating. “You’re such a good guy after all, Tobio!”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm marking this as complete because I don't have time for more fics! I just have to get the Arabian AU feels out. Maybe I'll continue this one someday (though highly unlikely!)
> 
> If anyone wants to continue or make another version, PLEASE DO! Hinata in Aladdin get-up is just too much I JUST UGH
> 
> If anyone writes more Arabian KageHina, inform me okay so I CAN READ IT AND CHERISH THIS AU EVEN MORE
> 
> And I need to talk to someone badly about this AU and the other AUs in my mind so please visit my Tumblr (missmissymeira) at least (if you don't wanna comment or anything) and let's flail around for this ship, m'kay?


End file.
